The Adventure of the Eiffel Tower
by SamuelClark1975
Summary: Sherlock Holmes and his assistant Dr. Watson uncover a plot to destroy the Eiffel Tower on Bastille Day all orchestrated and designed by their arch enemy the infamous Moriarty.


**The Adventure of the Eiffel Tower**

It was a most highly unusual occurrence, Holmes had his bouts of isolation and would withdraw into solace for extended periods, but if a meeting or engagement were prearranged he would always turn up promptly and punctually. Both I and Mary had waited in the Red Lion for a good two hours for our usual Friday afternoon meeting and I had already drunk three Mauresques.

"Where could he be?" Mary asked me. I looked around the café once more, as I had been doing since it became apparent that he was late, I thought he had disguised himself as one of the café patrons and he was calculating to see how long he could go unnoticed and thus test the suitability of the disguise. He had done this on a few previous occasions, disguising himself once as a gentleman of the road, once as an accountant with considerable girth and once as a woman. The disguises were most effective and on all occasions of this I did not guess that it was my friend hidden under his various guises. Why, I even engaged him in polite conversation when he disguised himself as the accountant. He would always reveal his true self in short time and not more than an hour, so his lack of punctuality at two hours was most disconcerting.

"I'm sure I have no idea."

"Perhaps we should check at his apartment." And thus it was, we finished our drinks and hurriedly made our way to Baker Street and Holmes's apartment.

There we had no further luck. Mrs. Hudson thought, as we did, that he had gone to meet with us for drinks.

"What time did he leave?" said I.

"Four-thirty."

"And he hasn't been back since?" I asked and Mrs. Hudson shook her head as she poured tea for Mary and I.

"Has he been engaged in a case lately?"

"No, I don't believe so," said she. "Other than the case of Mrs. Duke's missing cat. She's always losing that thing. And no matter how many times I tell her that cats are independent creatures given to wandering off, she still keeps coming here pleading with Sherlock to find him or it."

"Perhaps Mrs. Duke wants more than a missing cat," suggested Mary.

"How do you mean?" Mrs. Hudson replied.

"Well, Sherlock is one of the most eligible bachelors in all London and his reputation is growing, due in no small way to John's wonderful accounts of his adventures." I smiled at Mary's complement.

"Nonsense!" exclaimed Mrs. Hudson. "Mrs. Duke is happily married and almost fifty years old."

"Still, these things do happen."

"Not in this neighbourhood they don't." Mrs. Hudson responded, stiffly.

"I apologise, I didn't mean to offend."

"Then don't come here with your liberal, modern opinions." I was most surprised at Mrs. Hudson's outrage. I'd never seen her offended, aside from her complaints as to Holmes's upkeep, or lack of upkeep concerning his rooms. Mary shrank in her seat with embarrassment.

"Mrs. Hudson. Please, you're making Mary uncomfortable." Mrs. Hudson huffed and a long and uncomfortable silence followed.

"I better be going home, it's late." Mary said as she stood.

"You don't mind if I wait here do you?"

"Not at all." I escorted her outside and hailed a hansom cab. "Visit me in the morning. I do hope Sherlock is okay."

"Oh I'm sure he is, probably some case he's engaged in." I kissed her goodbye and watched the hansom roll away. It was dark now and the gaslight illuminated the street in a soft orange hue and as I stood the most dire of conclusions swept through my mind. I hurried inside and back up the stairs to the apartment and checked the drawer where he kept his cocaine supply, for I thought Holmes might have given in to one of his bouts of depression, he not being engaged in a significant case at the present time. My conclusion was that he might have taken too much and overdosed on the drug and was lying lifeless in some grim Parisian back street. My fears were quelled when I found the syringe and the equipment untouched. It was then I noticed something odd on the work desk. A telegram, signed by myself but I had not sent him such a message. It read as such:

 _Holmes_

 _Important business, meet on 1st floor of Eiffel Tower._

 _Dr. John Watson._

It was most curious, and despite the fact that it explained Holmes's absence I was still disturbed; for who would send such a message and why would they disguise themselves as me? I sat for a time pondering such questions when I heard footsteps on the stairs. Moments after Holmes himself entered the room. I was overwhelmed with relief.

"Holmes, I feared the worst, it's good to see you." He paused and furrowed his brow in confusion.

"Watson, you put on the airs of a withering Gothic heroine, I was only gone for an evening. Don't trouble yourself so much."

"Where have you been?" I asked and he sat in his armchair.

"The Eiffel tower of course, you read the telegram, did you not?"

"I did," said I, with shock and surprise. "How did you...?"

"I saw you reading it in the window as I arrived."

"Oh, of course."

"Now, I have an account to tell you and a question to ask of you. It is of the utmost importance."

"A case?"

"Yes, but an unusual one, or more accurately, a potential case. We cannot move forward until you know the full facts."

"Please, go ahead," said I, lighting a cigarette. He paced the room in the most intense and excited fashion as he gave me the account of his evening. The man was as intellectually stimulated as I had ever seen him and I had to stop him on a few occasions as the speed of his speech forced me to miss certain points.

"It is a remarkable feat of engineering and architecture, I imagine it will last more than its twenty year permit, naturally I relished the chance to meet you there and have dinner in the first floor restaurant. I was quite surprised to find myself alone for an hour and you not there to meet me as you had stated in your telegram. Thinking that you had been waylaid with Mary I ate dinner and drank a bottle of wine."

"A whole bottle? To yourself?"

"Yes. Something I would regret later. I had just finished and the waiter arrived at my table with the bill and a small card, on which was a simple message. All it said was: _3_ _rd_ _level observation deck_. I assumed it was you, of course and I wondered as to the cloak and dagger nature of it all. Taking the lift to the third level, I found myself on the observation deck. There was no one there. Incidentally, did you know there is a post office on that third floor? And that Gustave Eiffel keeps a private apartment there? Most unique. Anyway I waited and enjoyed the vast and panoramic view of Paris. The wind is most harsh at that level and I found the air refreshing, it livened up my senses. It must have been the effect of the wine, for I hadn't noticed a second person there.

"Monsieur, I'm glad you accepted my invitation." An aerial voice said. I flashed my look sideways and caught the view of a man in a black cloak and hood, his features and details hidden from my view.

"Watson?" I called out.

"I must apologise for the deception, it was the only way I could meet with you without certain consequences." He said further.

"Consequences?"

"If I revealed my identity too early I fear you would have taken undesirable actions."

"Who are you?" And the instance of my asking this question he came out from behind the corner. It was none other than Professor Moriarty, the murderer and would be cellist we investigated in our first case together.

I could tell from my examination of the man, he had spent some time in Vienna, he may have lived there since his escape. He owned a cat, had arrived in Paris that day. Also it appeared he had given up on his endeavours to play the cello in a legitimate orchestra.

"But Holmes," I exclaimed. "How did you make such conclusions?" said I, interrupting his account.

"Simplicity itself. His cloak is particular to Vienna and an exclusive and unique tailor that resides there. The tailor makes a specific point of cutting the coat tails of the cloak a little higher than others. The cloak was also rather weather beaten, I estimate about a year or more, he probably bought it on his arrival in Vienna. There was also a notable fading of the black fabric used to make the cloak. The cloak also had numerous thin white hairs stuck to it, where he had failed to brush it clean.

"Might it have been a dog?"

"It might have been, but Moriarty doesn't strike me as a dog person."

"And the musical endeavours?"

"I have been following with great interest the numerous symphony orchestras across Europe and the make up of their players, no new cellist of Moriarty's description has been reported or accounted for. Simplicity itself."

"And what of his recent arrival in Paris?"

"Ahh, he dropped his train ticket after our meeting. A ticket from Vienna to Paris." He smirked a little in good humour and continued with his account.

Unfortunately he had positioned himself between myself and the entrance to the lift so I couldn't immediately escape his company and report him as the murderer of Patrice Von Houton and it would have been an ill advised course of action anyway, as he would surely go back into hiding and flee once again to some other European city of his choosing. There was silence between us for a time as we sized each other up and while my skills in boxing are of a satisfactory standard I feared the wine I had consumed earlier at my lonely dinner would have hindered me substantially.

"Why have you called my here?" I asked him. He studied me with his pensive and intelligent eyes as he lit a cigarette.

"You may interpret this meeting as a warning," said he gravely. "I have business in Paris, delicate business and I do not wish to be hindered in my actions by your meddlesome investigations. I have been reading of your cases with great interest. You seem a most equal rival to me and my endeavours. "

"Endeavours that are criminal I take it?" He didn't answer and inhaled on his cigarette. His cloak fluttered in the strong wind.

"I will be spending some time in meetings over the next few days, finalising plans and putting the pieces of my ambitions into place."

"What is the nature of these ambitions?" I asked, and again he didn't answer.

"Any interference or enquires into this business on your part shall be treated as an act of war, so to speak, and I shall take great pains to hurt you and those that you care about in the harshest of ways. I have well placed confederates and agents, so if you follow me, report me to the police or take any action against me it will be seen. Do you understand?" He said finally and firmly. I simply nodded.

"Then our business is done. It was a pleasure to meet you face to face."

"We have met before."

"In more civilised circumstances." And with that he turned and entered the lift. I reflected on his threat for some time as I gazed down at Paris below me.

"And now that you know the details of my evening, I face something of a dilemma, Watson."

"How so?"

"I left something out of my telling, concerning his threats if I took action against him. It troubles me greatly and I am left with only one course of action. The decision is out of my hands and in yours."

"Really? What decision is this?" He took a long reflective pause, at the same time looking upon me with regret and woe. "Watson, with his final words he threatened to kill Mary, saying she would be the first person on this gruesome hit list. So, I leave it to you." I remained in silent shock and desperate fear washed over me. Upon seeing this reaction Holmes added. "I will pursue the matter no further and leave it at that." There was yet more silence and reflection. Holmes continued to pace the room in the deepest of intensity, the gears of his mind ticking over with possibilities and conclusions and conjecture that I could only imagine.

"However!" he suddenly exclaimed. "We might take steps to protect Mary, inform the police of the threat, have her leave London to a safer and hidden residence. Perhaps her family has some secluded cottage or house in the Lincolnshire regions, where any stranger could be easily identified?"

"Well you've certainly put a lot of thought into the latter option."

"But of course, why would I put any thought to the first? Ostensibly it leads nowhere."

"Have you considered a third option?"

"A third?"

"Yes. Why not ask Mary herself? After all it is her life that is being threatened."

"Hmm, a very astute and logical course of action. We shall go to her in the morning and ask her."

I returned home all the while churning over this situation in my mind. For Moriarty must have had some great criminal plan in the works and it would surely have some dire unforeseeable consequences to Paris and its fair citizens. What is one person's life and interests when set against those of the larger cause? And such a horrible choice to present to a woman as beautiful and as delicate as Mary. I was a little troubled at Holmes's presentation and seeming willingness to disregard the threat to Mary in pursuit of his work and this gruesome intrigue. While he did not say it specifically, I saw it in his enthusiasm and intensity, it showed me his burning desire to investigate and uncover Moriarty's plot.

Before the break of dawn Holmes was at my door most eager to go.

"Holmes," said I, upon answering the door. "What time is it?"

"A little after five. Come on. We have little time."

"Little time? Little time for what?"

"To get Mary out of London and to safety." I regarded him with much confusion.

"Have you told her already?"

"No, not yet."

"Then why do you presume we are taking her to safety?"

Holmes fumbled on an answer. "Please, Watson get dressed I am anxious to get her decision."

Foregoing an answer I dressed quickly and we were on our way to Mary's small apartment in the picturesque town of Epping. The reason for her recent relocation concerned her desire to live closer to her family, this and one of her favourite pass times was to take nature walks in the nearby forest. Her family owned a rather grand estate in the area. During the spring of 1889 she had moved there from her apartment in Kensington. I protested at the time for Epping was an hour's travel outside of London. Of course I worried for nought as I didn't see her any less, in fact, I had spent even more time with her over the past year.

Holmes remained very quiet on our journey by carriage and he shifted and repositioned himself in his seat with nervous tension. He seemed all together troubled by something.

"Is something wrong?" I asked as the carriage rumbled and bounced its way along the road. He paused and regarded me with a grave expression.

"I feel I must confess something."

"What?"

"I have taken an action ahead of myself and our situation, you must understand I took this action with reservation, but time is precious and I wished to expedite our circumstances, all this was in presumption of Mary giving us a positive answer."

I feared the worst. "Please, don't beat around the bush, Holmes. Simply tell me."

"I have already put the word out to my network to track Moriarty and his engagements in Paris. I have little doubt that they will not be detected and Moriarty made aware of this action, but there is always that small chance."

"Your network?" I asked.

"Yes, I have a network of discreet informants that when asked, will scour the streets of Paris listening for any pertinent information I need."

"Who are these people?"

"They hide in plain sight and one wouldn't give them a second look or regard them as unusual in any way. But they have their ears to the ground and little goes unnoticed. They are on almost every street corner of Paris."

"The homeless?"

"Good Lord, no. Although I dare-say the network extends to those poor souls who have found themselves unfortunate enough to be living on the streets. It is a wild and unruly thing and it takes time for word to travel back, hence my need to put the request out as soon as possible."

"Then who?"

"Why the newspaper vendors who sell from kiosks and the children who earn a living by shouting out the day's headlines. Granted this network can have a certain 'Chinese whisper' problem."

"Huh?" I stated not understanding his meaning.

"A problem of accuracy. As the details are relayed from person to person there is the risk of embellishment or a misheard sentence or phrasing that warps and twists the information as it travels back. But in a circumstance such as this, the more degrees of separation from myself to Moriarty, the better."

"You trouble yourself too much. I see very little risk, and I am confident Mary will allow you to investigate."

"Even at the risk of her own life?"

"Since your adventure in _Gévaudan_ , she has gained a high opinion of your skills, I'm sure she will take that into account."

After another half an hour we arrived in Epping. A delightfully small and quaint town, as was Mary's apartment, a two storey affair above a shoe shop of all things. It was seven in the morning and the cobbler had not yet begun his days work, nor opened his shop for business.

Mary leaned back in her seat as if she was exhausted after we told her the account of Holmes's meeting with Moriarty and the dilemma he presented.

"It is a most horrifying dilemma he puts to you and, if I may say so, most manipulative," she paused in consideration. "But Holmes, after our experiences together in _Gévaudan,_ I have no doubt as to my safety and your skills at preventing Moriarty's plan or plot. I thank you for bringing the choice to me and not acting without seeking my consent." I glanced pointedly at Holmes and he shrank in his seat, but recovered his resolve.

"Then we shall get you to safety this instant. I understand you have family in Lincolnshire?"

"I do."

"Might you not spend the weekend or the whole week with them, until this business with Moriarty is at its end?"

"Indeed I might."

"You have no pressing engagements then?"

"No, but there has or have been a couple of men of the wrong sort. Seemingly they are keeping a watchful eye on me." I recoiled in horror, Holmes was more calm and stopped me in my irrational exclamations with a soft and restrictive gesture of his hand.

"When and where did you see these men?"

She got up out of her seat and pointed out of the window, down at a lamp-light. "Why right there. One of them smoked numerous cigarettes and loitered up and down the street for several hours and the next day there was another. Always they kept flicking their looks up at the windows of my apartment and eyed me as I left and came home. They didn't follow me, so I thought no threat was at hand, I merely thought they were waiting on other business with other people. And given my notoriety as a high born lady I merely thought myself a bit of an odd spectacle in the midst of the common Englishman. In all modesty people and men do have knowledge of who I am."

"How long since you noticed them?"

Mary paused and thought on Holmes's question. "Within the past week., Monday I think."

Holmes sat back in his chair and with the most pensive of constitutions, lit a cigarette. "Moriarty has certainly set a wide net, one that rivals my own network of informants. We must get you to Lincolnshire and to your relatives as soon as possible and without Moriarty's knowledge. Mary you must cancel all prior engagements and business until we have settled the matter. I will send word to you the minute this has happened."

"But, Sherlock," Mary said after a long moment, "Wouldn't Moriarty's attention and the attention of his agents be alerted by my sudden absence and wouldn't he be alerted by the fact I am not going about my daily business for a period of days? Not to mention the fact they may have already seen you in Epping."

"The latter is easily excused, you are the fiancée of my good friend here, it is within the boundaries of normal activity. The first, I fear you may have a point. And thus, I give the choice to you. If you feel safe enough and brave enough to stay in Epping I will conduct my investigation in the most covert and in the fastest manner possible. If not, we shall smuggle you to Lincolnshire."

Mary thought on the choice once more in the deepest of reflections. "Then I choose to stay here."

"Very good." Holmes said.

"Mary I protest," I exclaimed. "I fear for your safety. What if Holmes makes the slightest of errors and reveals his investigations?"

"Then stay here with me. I should be glad of your company."

"An excellent plan. I shall send word out if I need you once I am informed of Moriarty's activities." said Holmes finally. He stood and I took it upon myself to see him back to the cab and the street.

"Hmm," Holmes said. "I wonder as to Mary's choice in taking such a modest residence, given her means." said he as we left her apartment and strolled the street back to our carriage.

"She likes to keep things simple."

"Yes, there is that, but her living space seems well below her status. I wonder if there isn't something more to it."

"More?" said I,"how do you mean?"

"Well, couldn't it be that she is levelling herself to you and your meagre means as a surgeon?"

"You mean she is so enamoured with me that... that... she is taking the lower option in her choice of abode?"

"It is possible and quite the compliment. Farewell, for now good friend."

I spent the next three days, enjoying Mary's company and it was something of a prelude to what might be our married life. We took long walks in the nearby forest and Mary asked me my own theories on what Moriarty's plot may be after I made a fuller account of the situation.

"Perhaps a bank robbery of some sort? Maybe an art heist? One can only theorise." I paused. "I wonder if I may ask something of a delicate nature."

"But of course," said she.

"Holmes proposed something to me before he left." Mary remained in silence awaiting my inquiry. "They concern your motivations in taking an apartment below your means."

"Oh?"

"Yes, he seems to think you might be, how shall I put this, dropping down to my level?"

"Perhaps that is an underlying motivation, but Sherlock is not privy to all the facts of my life, particularly my discomfort towards being waited on hand and foot. By taking my own apartment I wished to strike out independently and live my life on my own terms. And the town of Epping I find most pleasant." I smiled and we spent the rest of the afternoon marvelling at and enjoying our natural surroundings, the wild birds, the stags and deer, I found it a refreshing contrast to city life. When we arrived back in town and indeed for the next few days I found myself constantly wary and in a state of mild paranoia, seeking out amongst the townsfolk anyone who might be one of Moriarty's agents. I was constantly on guard, such was my desire to protect Mary from harm. There was no particular person that stood out as intimidating and at times I almost forgot the threat Moriarty had posed.

A telegram that arrived on the third morning of my protective vigil alerted me once again to the danger and the threat posed against Mary's life.

 _Watson_

 _Word has travelled back from "the network" meet at my apartment as soon as you can._

 _Holmes_

"A number of salient points have emerged concerning Moriarty's activity, Watson," said he on my return to Paris and his apartment some hours after I had received his telegram. "I wonder what you make of them. "Firstly, he met with Guy De Maupassant for lunch in the first floor restaurant of the Eiffel tower."

"The writer?" I asked. He simply nodded and continued.

"They discussed some trivial matters, the progress of Maupassant's new novel. Mostly concerning the title. "Bel Ami" seemed to be favoured. Moriarty told some stories of his experiences in Vienna and then they moved on to the matter of the tower itself. Maupassant hates it and is part of a group of artists and painters that have all publicly protested its presence in Paris.

"Yes, I believe I read of it some months ago. A committee of three hundred, no less," I paused and pondered something that didn't quite add up. "But why on earth would a man so loathed of the Eiffel Tower, considering it to be an eyesore, a blot on the landscape of Paris as he so puts it, actually eat in the Tower's own restaurant?"

"Isn't it obvious?"

I pondered a while, but I could make no sense of it. "No, Holmes it isn't."

"Why, by eating in the Eiffel Tower's restaurant he cannot see the tower."

"Ahh." I exclaimed. "But wouldn't it be more practical to merely choose a seat in another restaurant that faces _away_ from the tower."

"Yes, and he wouldn't be patronising the very thing he loathes. Any way, the most significant fact in all this was Moriarty's warning to Maupassant upon leaving his company. He stated that he should not take his dinner in the restaurant on a particular day. The 14h of July."

"Bastille Day?"

"Indeed. A celebration of the unity of France, and it's freedom from those dark days of feudalism and the ancient régime."

"You think this is of significance?"

"At the heart of it, Watson," said he. "Now, the second point. Moriarty then had a meeting with a Chinaman of all people, and a very prosperous one at that. Significant in his involvement with the business of building railways in the America's and he holds certain business interests in the manufacture of fireworks. There is some doubt as to his activities and the legality of such. Some might say the man is corrupt, ruthless and cold hearted and of a morally questionable disposition."

"How so?"

"His use of slave labour and enabling the transport of Chinese migrant workers to the United States. The midwest and most of western America is currently a wild frontier and matters of regulation and legality can easily go unnoticed and thus exploited."

"Does this blackguard have a name."

"Li Yuan."

"I can't say that I've ever heard of him."

"Neither did I, but it was the first report I received and it required much inquiry and research afterwards."

"And the next significant fact?"

"The final one. Moriarty met with a man who is, as yet, unidentifiable. He has no significant reputation, at least within my network, but judging from the rather unreliable and vague description of him I would theorise that it may be Arsène Lupin."

"The master thief?" I said most shocked and excited.

"In this last meeting, Moriarty was seen handing over a very substantial amount of money to Gaspard."

"Well, aside from his meeting with Maupassant, Moriarty's business suggests something very untoward."

"It does, and can you conclude what his business may be? Have you already made conclusions yourself?"

"I have. But wish to have them validated, by your good and independent intelligence." I thought on the evidence for a while and Holmes remained silent. He busied himself with the examination of fingerprints at his work desk and his developing study of identifying a person by those individual and unique circular markings on a particular persons fingertips. I paced the room in thought and attempted to break down and simplify the evidence at hand. Clandestine meetings. The first with a writer, representative of a group who had much disdain for the Eiffel tower. The particular date Moriarty told him not to have his usual lunch. Bastille Day. It was suggestive of the fact of something happening on that date and at the location of the tower. But what? I could not make any connection between the second two men and the details of their occupations and reputations, other than that they were both of questionable morality. I couldn't, for the life of me, discern the connection between a thief, a Chinese business magnate and this writer, their occupations seemed to run contrary to any plan that would concern the Eiffel tower and Bastille Day.

"Any conclusions, Watson?" said he, looking up from his study.

"None, I'm afraid."

"Is it not obvious to you?"

"Apparently not. The concerns of each man seem entirely unrelated. Please, do explain it."

"The plan to destroy the Eiffel tower using explosives on Bastille day." I started in both shock and horror and simply could not believe what he was suggesting. "A deplorable act of terrorism and for very little gain."

"But why? And how do you conclude their motivations?"

"One, Maupassant has been very loud and public in his protest at the very building of the tower, as I have already said. Li Yuan fell into second place in his bid to gain the contract to build the tower, a fact I left out in my initial account, and he has easy access to the expertise required in explosives and fireworks."

"But what of Arsène Lupin, why is a master thief involved?"

"The final stage of the plan requires someone to position the explosives on or within the actual tower in a subtle and hidden manner, a manner favourable to a cat burglar and Lupin's deviousness in his thievery. You do remember how he used a slight of hand tactic to misdirect our attentions when he stole the Marquis's art collection."

"My God, Holmes, if they succeed it would be one of the most deplorable acts of terrorism in the history of France, and Europe, if not the world. Not to mention the lives of thousands of innocent Parisians that will be at risk. What on earth is to be gained from such an act?"

"Very little, as I said, it seems born out revenge and bitterness and it boarders on the ridiculous, as the criminal mind often is. I hazard this was the reason why you didn't reach this conclusion from the evidence I presented."

"We must inform the police and the relevant government agencies immediately," I proclaimed.

"But what of Moriarty's threat against Mary?"

This gave me pause and reflection."This is not a plan we can foil alone, Holmes. It must be done and at the same time, Mary must be better protected, surely the police will assist us?"

He pondered my suggestion in a long moment of reflection. "If you think that's best. But," he paused. "I would remind you of the ease in which Moriarty manipulated the police last time. You remember his confederate Sebastian Moreau and how willing he was to take the fall for him? Also I fear the police would have trouble believing our conclusions due to their ridiculous nature and there may be an element of denial, a certain unwillingness to believe." There was silence yet again as I considered the choice. "What date it is?" He asked.

"The 11th."

"Three days. I wonder if it is enough time. But then surely all our efforts should be focused on the tower itself and the surrounding area. One must consider the method of the destruction too. Will they destroy it from its base, thus the legs of the tower."

"Might it be prudent to inform Inspector Lestrade of this, he seems most respectful of you and your skills, even if most of the force are not."

"Yes, it is a logical course of action. But I feel it is misguided once the the logic is extended."

"How so?"

"Interviews with the two prominent men I have described, Li Yuan and Guy De Maupassant. And surely, after that fact, the information will work its way back to Moriarty and thus put Mary's life at risk, if it isn't already. Which reminds me, we should send her a telegram and encourage her to come back to Paris proper, and our company, where we might keep a watchful eye on her and keep her safe."

Bastille day came and the whole of Paris was alive with people, crowds all enjoying the day in a display of national pride and exuberance. Tricolours of all sizes were in abundance, held in the small hands of children and adults alike, and hung from flag poles and out of windows. The music of trumpets and drums filled the air, seemingly in all the arrondissements of Paris. There was little time to take in all the joyous frivolity and fun and Holmes lead the way through the streets at great speed and with great purpose I could barely keep up. It was most out of character for him, considering his usual fear and timidity when overwhelmed by crowds, but needs must and he threw his usual anxiety and phobia aside when set against the safety of innocent Parisians. We made good time and reached the Eiffel tower a little after eleven. There we took tea in a café in close proximity to the towering metal structure. Seats where we could easily survey the area for any notable activity. We talked little, Holmes always looking beyond and all about us, like a bird might flick its head in its abrupt manner. Alas we saw very little amongst the crowds. After finishing our tea Holmes suggested we move closer to the four legs of the tower.

"But what if Moriarty, or his confederates see us?"

"What if they do?" he replied rather flippantly.

"Are you forgetting the threat against Mary's life and Moriarty's warning against any investigations?"

"I am not. We are merely in the area, enjoying the day and the atmosphere. You forget, Watson, he hasn't the faintest idea as to what conclusions we have drawn. We can claim innocence."

"And you believe Moriarty will care? Why as soon as he sees us..."

"Calm yourself, Watson." said he, dismissing my fears. He approached one of the towers legs and looked up at the metal lattice, he peered down at the ground and indeed examined every inch of the structure. I stood back a-ways, keeping an eye out, my paranoia was growing within my being, to say that I was of a nervous disposition would be an understatement. Holmes stopped abruptly and moved onto the next leg of the tower. Each time he found nothing untoward, no explosive devices or destructive bombs of any nature, familiar or otherwise.

"Most perplexing," said he.

"Perhaps you were wrong in your conclusions?"

"Hardly," said he in a dismissive and arrogantly irksome manner. "We merely have to alter our approach." Then he stopped suddenly, as if frozen on the spot, staring ahead through the crowds and out onto the Champs de Mars gardens. I looked to where he was staring and there I saw Moriarty looking back at us, his lip curved upward in an all knowing and greatly devious smile. His hands were clasped around a walking stick placed centrally on the floor between his legs. He quaffed his hat in acknowledgement turned his coat tails and walked way amongst the tumult. Holmes gave chase immediately, leaving me standing, for a moment, full of fear and perplexity. I snapped out of it and followed after him, pushing through and passed the crowds that littered the Champ De Mars. Moriarty was in plain sight as he ran and I had great difficulty in keeping up, both Holmes and Moriarty were running at a pace that might have matched a pair of Cheetahs.

Moriarty darted left along the Rue de Grenelle and into the maze of Parisian streets he turned down alleyways and connecting side streets and at the time, although my thoughts were wild and scattered due to the physical exertion he seemed to me to be running with purpose and direction, whereas normally a criminal may be running wild and randomly in order to escape. I had also been aware that he was pulling Holmes and myself away from the tower itself and if he meant to destroy it as Holmes had theorised there was now little we could do to prevent it. Moriarty was most nimble and light on his feet, darting around this corner and that, and he seemed to have no regard for his own life, on several occasions he crossed the streets not two feet in front of passing horses pulling their carriages, if he had timed it wrongly he would surely have been trampled on the cobblestones, this disregard allowed me to catch up with Holmes as he waited for the carriages to pass and once again give chase. Moriarty thumped into passing pedestrians spinning them on their feet and calling out in cries of protest, why he even trampled on a dropped tricolor, but these forays hindered his pace and his purpose little, he kept on running glancing back at us as he went. I was shocked and surprised to see, as he took these glances, that he was smiling, as if this were all some joyful game to him. Why on a couple of occasions he even slowed his pace allowing us to catch up briefly and on a significantly marked occasion at the end of a connecting side street he stopped and waited. When we were within ten metres of him he darted around the corner. A moment after this we caught him.

Moriarty, it appeared, had tripped and fallen to the ground and was writhing in agony upon the pavement, panting and sweating from the exertion of the chase. Holmes stopped abruptly and I caught up just as Moriarty was getting to his feet.

"Arrest this man!" Moriarty cried inexplicably, and I and Holmes were utterly perplexed and caught off guard. In the next instant a Parisian police officer gripped Holmes's upper arm and in the next instant a maria cab pulled up.

"Whatever for?" I cried in protest. "Moriarty is the criminal here."

"Charges of harassment, criminal conspiracy and intention to murder." Moriarty said between panting breaths. Holmes stood silently and still, staring at Moriarty and I saw that familiar look, the look that told me the gears of his mind were working.

"Ridiculous! Outrageous!, surely you do not believe the man?" said I. The officer made no reply and I watched helplessly as Holmes was ushered into the back of the maria cab. Holmes made no protest of any kind and did not resist the officer. I looked on as the rear cab door were closed and bolted shut and the carriage pulled away my mind reeling at this unaccountable turn of events. There was only myself and Moriarty left standing there and he smiled his menacing and devious smile.

"Do give my warmest regards to your fiancée," said he. I stood dumbfounded, my heart sinking with dread and panic, for in all the tumult of the chase I had completely forgotten Mary and the threat made against her life and the fact that we had left her to her own devices and unprotected. I lurched forward with the dark intention of beating the life out of this most devious of criminals. He stepped back. "Don't!" said he abruptly. "My confederates are watching and they, like the police will take action if any harm comes to my person." I glanced around the street, beyond the many pedestrians and plainly I saw three men in positions that formed a triangle of protection, Moriarty and I being at the centre. These men loomed and kept a keen eye on myself and I conjectured that they had been at their positions the whole time. And suddenly it dawned on me, that from that very first clandestine meeting between Holmes and Moriarty on the tower, had been a design, a trap set by the spider that was Moriarty. Moriarty curled his lip in a triumphant smile, tipped his hat, turned and made haste along the street. Immediately I hailed a Hansom cab and told the driver not to spare the horses and take me to the Gare du Nord. I feared the worst and on that ride it seemed that the whole world had collapsed around me.

I paid the driver handsomely, more than five time the normal rate upon our arrival, for it had taken all of thirty minutes instead of the usual hour. It was another,tense and worrisome three hours before I reached the shores of England and those familiar white cliffs of Dover and a further 2 hours before I reached London. As soon as I arrived I made for Epping andI hurried to the cobblers and Mary's apartment above almost leaping up the stairs. I burst into her rooms and once again my heart sank and my nerves trembled in utter terror, for before me Mary's apartment had been ransacked, tables and chairs toppled, lamp lay on the floor, definite and grim signs of a bitter struggle. I could barely contain myself and my despair, especially when I caught sight of the only table left standing, upon which, a calling card. I picked it up with trembling fingers and examined the card, only one word marked the white card, - _Moriarty_. There was no time for desperate cries as behind me I heard footsteps upon the stairs leading up to the apartment. I gripped the revolver I had at my hip, ready to kill without mercy.

"John?" came her light, delicate voice from behind me, like that of a redeeming angel. I span around and looked upon her person with indescribable relief. In the next moment I collapsed to the floor, overcome.

Some hours later I awoke in Mary's bed and found her by my bedside. She mopped my brow with a wet flannel, I was delirious for some time and could not speak although I tried.

"Calm down, John, you have suffered a terrible malady and you must rest," said she.

"But the tower, the terrorist plot, Moriarty. Holmes. Holmes was arrested." Mary started with a gasp at my delirious proclamations. "We must help him, we must stop it. All of Paris is at risk. They plan to destroy the tower with explosives."

"John, please you scare me with this talk," said she easing my troubled constitution with the cool wet flannel. "There is little you can do now, and I assume Holmes has the matter in his control." She was right, there was little I could do now but pray and I eased myself by presuming Holmes's conclusions were erroneous and this plot was all a ruse designed by Moriarty to tangle me and my closest friends in fear. "We shall visit with Holmes and the police on the morrow, at our earliest convenience." Mary stood placing the wet flannel in the bowl. "Try to sleep, I'm going to sort out the mess in my rooms."

I spent the night in much troubled sleep dropping in and out of consciousness, turning in my bed and finally morning came. The previous day's adventures and stresses all seemed like a dream when I ventured wearily out into Mary's living space, the room was clean, tidy and organised, she must have been up half the night cleaning. Over breakfast she told me nothing had been stolen and by the time we finished I felt like my old self again, due in large part to a revitalising tonic Mary had me drink, I was a little nervous of drinking it, being a man of medicine, this and she would not reveal its contents.

"Drink it, it will make you feel better," was all she said. I dressed and made myself presentable and we set forth back to Paris for twofold reasons, to report the burglary and to free my falsely accused friend. The morning was fresh and full of bright, warm sunshine, the streets seemed calm and relaxed and when browsing the newspaper 'Le Monde' on our ride by carriage, I found no stories or reports of the Eiffel tower's destruction, merely happy reports on the Bastille Day activities. All seemed right with the world. As we reached central Paris and the 7th arrondisement, there it was stood proud and glorious and untouched.

We reported the crime against Mary to the police, who duly noted it, but were dismissive of my claims as to who was responsible, even though Moriarty had left his calling card in plain sight which I offered as evidence, the clerk behind the desk studied it for a moment, after doing so he looked at me and assured me the matter would be dealt with to the best of their ability. I then moved on to the matter of Holmes and his false arrest. Whereupon the clerk told me the charge had been dropped and he was set free early this morning. I blinked in surprise, for I had been anticipating a mighty task in proving his innocence. It was quite the anticlimax to the events that led up to it and it all seemed to wash away into insignificance despite the looming threat that Moriarty had posed and the antagonist he presented himself to be.

The business done, myself and Mary found our way to Holmes's apartment on Baker Street. Upon our arrival Mrs. Hudson informed us that he had retired to his bedroom and had been asleep since six-thirty this morning.

"How was his mood, did he say anything at all?" I asked.

"He grunted a few words, he seemed most tired and paler than I've ever seen him. Where has he been?"

"Prison." stated I plainly.

"Prison?" Mrs. Hudson said, recoiling in mild shock.. "What bother has he gotten himself into this time?"

While we waited for Holmes to rouse from his slumber I explained our recent adventures over tea to Mrs. Hudson. She listened intently and was about to say something when Holmes sauntered out of his bedroom in a sleepy haze. The three of us watching him in silent anticipation as he poured himself a cup of coffee and took a seat in his armchair, whereupon he lit a cigarette with a match and still he remained silent.

"Well?" said I, breaking the long silence.

"Well what?" he replied.

"Did you expose Moriarty to the police, was his plot real? And how did you defend yourself against his allegations and how did you free yourself from prison and the charges laid against you? Where is Moriarty now?" I asked in a flurry. Holmes inhaled on his cigarette and watched the plumes of smoke dance from his lips as he exhaled.

"Moriarty's plot was erroneous, as you can now conclude, since the Eiffel tower remains standing."

"So your conclusions and theories were incorrect?"

"Not in the least. His plan was a true one, but he had no intention of seeing it through. It was a plot, but not against Paris and the tower but against our good selves. He span a web in order to entrap me."

"Whatever for?" Mary enquired.

"Posturing, he wished to present his means to me and his own network of influence. To show me the levels of political and authoritarian power he can reach and use in his game against me. The chase leading to my arrest was the final link of the chain. The police officer who arrested me on the street was one of Moriarty's confederates and a well paid one. He anticipated that I would follow a line of investigations against him, despite his warnings. He relied upon it and placed the clues like the bread crumbs in Hansel and Gretal, leading myself and you, Watson to that particular street corner at that particular time."

"But the charges you were arrested upon, they were clearly false, how can they justify your incarceration?"

"They can't, and is the reason I sit here before you, the charges dropped and my freedom reinstated. It appears his financial reach to corrupt the police and government officials is unlimited," he paused in reflection. "And possibly explains the frustrating experience and ill will I have found when trying to collaborate with the Parisian police, Arsène Ganimarde aside of course."

"And how exactly have you concluded all this?" Mary asked.

"He told me himself upon visiting my cell. I was laying on the bunk staring up at the dank stone ceiling of my cell, the police took it upon themselves to house me away from the criminal masses in the other over crowded cells, I had been churning over and formulating the design of his plan, for I couldn't sleep, when I heard distinctly the footsteps and the jangling of keys from the corridor. A moment later he appeared at my cell and looked upon me with that sinister and most arrogant smile. There was silence and he lit a cigarette.

"Why?" I asked, sitting up.

"A test," he responded. "My plan had the purpose of testing how committed you are to the process. I now have the measure of you, what you are willing to sacrifice for your work. The lengths you will go," he paused, spilling smoke from his mouth. I regarded him with a blank expression, wishing to give nothing away to him. "Mary?" Moriarty continued. "You were willing to risk her life, the life of your best friend's fiancée in order to pursue this game, the puzzle. And now, by the same token you now have the measure of me and the resources available to me. We are equally matched and the next game we play will be on fair ground."

"I could have you arrested for conspiracy to commit mass murder, terrorism and treason." At this he laughed.

"But Holmes, you are the one speaking from behind these bars. And even without my considerable influence and your current position, you won't."

"I won't, why?"

"Because you enjoy this. You enjoy the game. It's your only raison d'etre. And I, with no false modesty, am the biggest puzzle you face and are ever likely to face."

"There is plenty of mystery in the world even in your absence," said I.

"Mrs Duke's forever missing cat, for example. They're trivial Holmes, commonplace and they don't match the great mind you have. No, I think I shall walk free for the time being and I'm sure we will meet again." At this he left my company disappearing into the shadows of the jail cell corridors. With little in my power I retired to sleep and was awoken some hours later, whereupon the jailer told me that all the charges had been dropped."

"But Holmes why did you offer no resistance upon your initial arrest?" I asked, as the question and his inaction had been bothering me.

"I concluded at the very instant we caught up with Moriarty. For while during the chase I saw several times that he waited for us to catch up to him. This goes against the motivation of wanting to escape and suggested something _other_ was afoot, the rest became clear."

"Such an elaborate game you men play, you're no better than children on a school playground." said Mrs. Hudson and she got up from her seat and began clearing away the table, placing our finished with cups on the tray. "And by the way Mrs. Duke's cat is missing again," said she before leaving the room. Mary smirked a little, holding in laughter.

After a short silence I asked, "What is to be done?"

"Nothing, we wait and let Moriarty play his hand again, for he surely will. And when he does we will have to prove his guilt beyond any reasonable doubt or if all else fails..." he trailed off with a grim expression upon his face. We waited with baited breath for him to finish his thought. Still he said nothing. I was about to speak when both I and Mary started with fear as we heard a loud boom that seemed to shake the whole room and it occurred to me that it might be the tower. I hurried toward the curtains and drew them back where I saw a hard falling rain pound upon the cobblestone street. A second later another crack of thunder exploded from the sky and the heavy clouds shrouded the street in an almost darkness.

"Merely a thunder storm," said I, turning back from the window."

Holmes arched his eyebrow. "Indeed," said he lighting another cigarette.


End file.
